A Chance Encounter
by usaangel00
Summary: My hubby's main and I on our first published adventure.


Broken and bleeding Amylynn extended a hand and laid it tenderly atop the still form of the night elf male draped protectively alongside her. "Not yet" she whispered brokenly. "Not while I still draw breath."

Lifting her head scant inches from the rain drenched ground; she stared across the expanse of what had once been a haven for the small creatures of the glade. Now, broken and twisted orc bodies lay strewn across the dirt like scattered leaves after a strong autumnal wind.

"Over protective fool" she chuckled softly, wincing as the act caused her teeth to come into contact with her battered lips. Silencing her had not proven as simple a task as the orc patrol had hoped. The encounter had been a chance one. The Orcs had ventured too far from their work camp tucked securely in Warsong Gulch. She supposed that the five weapon strewn creatures had probably been just as shocked as she and her companion. Shocked and foolishly over- confident. It had cost them their miserable excuses of lives and had nearly ended hers and the druid she was traveling with.

Closing her eyes, Amylynn clenched her fingers into the dirt beneath her, her hands filling with earthen matter, water and her own blood. The prayer she whispered was a simple one. A request for the power to heal, drawing on the blood sacrifice she had already made and was willing to make, should it be required. There was always a cost when power was sought. Always a price. Each time a prayer was issued, she knew that her willingness to sacrifice gave it credence and strength. Her faith had never wavered even when the flesh of her body failed her.

As her body flooded with power, her hand opened, blue fire engulfing her palm and fingers. Unnecessarily, she rested her hand atop the shoulder of the form beside her. Contact was not required, but their relationship, such as it was, often times denied her the luxury. His pulse was weak, too weak to be detected by means other than the most diligent. "Stubborn too", she whispered.

The words had barely left her mouth before she unleashed the raw energy surging thru her body.

She had tried on a number of occasions to explain to him what it felt like, but never felt that she had adequately conveyed the sheer abandonment of self that was involved. The last time she had tried every adjective that she could think of as she had stared into his impassive dark eyes and had nearly embarrassed herself by blushing. It was like birth and death. Neither was without pain and a tearing of the fabric of life. Her devotion to her faith was ultimate and unswerving. As such, her need to heal and restore was as necessary as breathing.

"I offer you my breath, my strength, my very life should it be required for you to use as your own. Accept this gift of faith and grow strong and hale."

It must have only been seconds, but to her it seemed a lifetime before a low rumble issued from the depths of the tall man. _Protesting already_ , she thought. He disliked her energy expenditure for him. Always had. _Probably always would_ , she mused. The rumble ended with a cough, allowing her to draw her hand away, hopefully unnoticed.

His recovery was swift, startlingly so. No matter how many times she witnessed it, it never ceased to amaze her. It was something inherent in his race, he had explained. A gift of drawing on reserves that human beings lacked. He rose from the ground, flowing gracefully to his feet.

"Impatient female" he muttered, reaching into his worn pouch and withdrawing several herbs. Crushing them between his hands, he chanted quietly, the sound much like that of water falling over rocks. Tossing the remnants into the air, he allowed the pieces to fall atop her prone form, glaring almost angrily at her. Heat blanketed her body, radiating from beneath and above her. For a brief instant there was a flare so intense that she would have sworn that her chest plate gleamed gold with light before fading away.

Strength renewed, she lay without moving, enjoying the return to health. Silently, she offered a prayer of thanks, grateful for what she had been given and kept as well. "Don't look at me like that, Bladoren" she sighed quietly. "We didn't have all night. These eager beavers might not have been alone." Amylynn cracked open one eye and peeked up at the tall man, an impish smile lifting one corner of her lips. "I just did what came naturally." She closed her eye and allowed her own healing to continue, pleased with having the last word. Before meeting the druid, she had heard him described as taciturn and enigmatic. After meeting him, she found herself questioning the first assumption and wholeheartedly endorsing the second.

"An unnecessary risk. I would have been able to restore us both given an adequate amount of time to prepare" he continued as if she had never spoken. It amazed her how irritated he managed to sound without ever raising his voice. _Yelling would be an unnecessary waste of energy_ , she thought wryly.

"Perhaps so" she agreed in a conciliatory tone, watching his brows rise as he immediately became suspicious. Rarely did she concede so easily. "But someone needed to save our bacon and since you appeared exhausted after only 5 orcs…" she allowed her voice to travel off apologetically. It was laughably easy to get a rise from him.

The glade lay wasted from the destruction he had rained down upon the hapless orcs. Only the surprise magic caster in the bunch had posed a serious threat. Spitting his words into the air, guttural and harsh, the caster had silenced them both, the foulness of the attack throwing her to her knees. Bladoren had remained upright, his body jerking with the force of the impact of the caster's subsequent firestorm as he summoned his own fall of blazing fire stilling all movement of their attackers.

"Only five orcs" he ground out, his eyes glittering as his ire rose. "And one in possession of a spell of power so ancient your priests would have no record of its very existence. Your race was a mere child…" Amylynn lifted her hand as she came to a kneeling position, allowing it to rise to her face.

"A joke, my friend" she offered, lifting the visor of her helm fully. "You have once again proven your mastery of your craft. My thanks." Bladoren fell silent, his arms crossing atop his chest. "Very well" he returned, appearing slightly mollified.


End file.
